A Milenar Arte de Meter o Louco

Projota

The Ancient Art of Going Crazy

Warm up the engine, it's time to fly
Open the hood, to cause a stir
We do what we want
We do what we can
With what we have, come what may
This is the ancient art of going crazy
The art of going crazy, the crazy
The art of going crazy
The art of going crazy, the crazy

I just ask for ten minutes of peace
For every ten hours of war
I had to be too strong
To bury my mother in this land
I think you should take care of your health
Your heart might go haywire
We're in '94, my name is Romário
You call Roberto Baggio
Crazy, crazy, when I decided to make my rap
They told me I was crazy, crazy
Man, you'll only starve if you rhyme on the microphone
You'll never make a buck, crazy
I find it crazy that I went crazy and shut them all up at once
Today I'm polishing my third gold record and thinking of all of you
And you? If I were you, I'd bet all my chips on me
Because if I tell your future, you'd prefer this rap not to end
I grew up always there, like Dalit
Today here, Cherokee is in the Valet
Make sure these black folks deserve to have money
So in the end, have much more than Jequiti
I'm cheeky, I'm outside the law
My dream of flying gave me wings
I dreamed of flying and I flew
Today I give workshops for NASA
If the city is a jungle, I'm the king
King of the jungle, son of Mufasa
Your fears are the law of silence and I'm a loud bang at your door

It was too easy for you guys
We didn't even have a textbook
Your friends brought lunch boxes
Mine carried a gun in the backpack
From the present student, kid from the village
Crazy and heavy, like J. Dilla
My name is Khal Drogo
I came to reign
If you want my place, get in line
Everything will pass, my father used to say
With a crowded mind and an empty fridge
The police would stop me and I didn't understand
My disrespect was that I was still alive
I went crazy listening to Bob Marley
With a Fubu cap and a Stanley shirt
I'm Harlem style, can't handle it, stop
I date these rhymes, today I have a harem
Tic-tac, tic-tac, onomatopoeia
Here it's click, clack, bang, it's few ideas
I'm Big and Pac style, Big and Pac, this is the odyssey
So get sharp, get sharp, or go to the audience
Because
I sing because I still have a lot to say
I listen because I still have a lot to learn
Going crazy was the only way to get there
The ancient art that makes the weak win
The gang is leaving, don't be late
The race is only for those who know how to run
Your brain is amazing, it makes you dream
But your heart makes you live